


The One Where They Don't Get Back Together

by nellywrites



Series: Summaries of Stories I Will Never Write [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Character Study, Episode Tag, Gen, M/M, Metafiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 10:17:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/673287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nellywrites/pseuds/nellywrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt and Blaine don't get back together. And Blaine becomes a Real Boy. Written after "Glease"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Where They Don't Get Back Together

**Author's Note:**

> This is my love song to Blaine. I wrote it as a response to things I see in fandom that make me uncomfortable. I like Kurt and I like Blaine, separately and together. But I find fandom (and sometime canon) representations of their relationship and Blaine’s character to be problematic. Specifically talk about what one character or another deserves. Deep down I want K&B to fix their issues and come back to each other, as equals. Until then, there is this.

**So the story goes like this:**

Once upon a time there was a boy, a very strange enchanted boy, who wandered very far, very far, over land and sea. And then one day, one magic day boy met boy, boy fell in love with boy, but other boy was oblivious and hurt the first boy until  _you were only waiting for this moment to arise_. Together they came to know the greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return. And they lived happily ever after. The end.

Actually, no, that’s not how the story goes.

 

In the end Blaine cheats, breaks Kurt’s heart and he remains alone. Although, in truth, he was alone sometime before the cheating, before breaking Kurt’s heart.  _This_  is how the story ends. Or maybe this is how the story starts.

Kurt leaves for New York and Blaine does not. The rest is narrative:

 

It  _is_  a boy meets boy story, complete with slow-motion-running-down-a-hallway-holding-hands and eye contact across the room in the middle of a playful serenade. _Perfectly_ scripted. And Blaine? Blaine is just  _made_ for Kurt. Literally. His  _missing puzzle piece_. (Is this foreshadowing? See, a puzzle will still show a complete picture even with a piece missing. But what are you supposed to do with a lone puzzle piece? It’s not like it’ll fit into any other puzzle.)

But Blaine plays his role right, says and does all the right things.

 

(Until he doesn’t:

“ _The guy I like is a junior manager.”_

_“Who says I’m leading her on?”_

_“It just looked like you had gas pains.”_

And even:

_“I was trying to be spontaneous and fun.”_

And there is guilt and self-flagellation until:

“ _You were right and I’m sorry._ ”)

 

So, the story goes something like this: Kurt’s world shatters and Blaine picks up the pieces— _I got your back; We don’t have to go back in there; Don’t give up hope, ever; Right now, it’s your time. You’re ready._ ”

Then Kurt leaves. And Blaine cheats.

 

**i**.

Blaine Warbler is not good at talking about his feelings, he’d much rather sing about them. So he sings, and he sings, and he sings. And sometimes he even talks, too. Or at least tries to initiate communication.

And Sam says: No.

Finn and Artie say: No.

Kurt says: No.

 

Query: If sound comes out of your mouth but nobody listens, did you speak at all?

 

But then, after weeks of silence, Kurt is  _right there_  and Blaine thinks finally, he’s here, he’ll see, he’s always seen ( _You okay? You seem…_ ), but Kurt turns away, rolls his eyes.

“I’m not interested,” he says. He actually says that and Blaine feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. Or, you know, whatever cleverer figure of speech you prefer.

Kurt walks away and Blaine is left behind. Then he’s in the choir room and Mr. Schue is talking, he thinks but Blaine isn’t listening. He doesn’t even know how he makes it home. Did he drive? He cries himself to sleep, again. He’s lost count of all the times he’s already done this. And if this seems a bit melodramatic, well he’s a teenager.

He wakes up to Kurt’s face staring at him from his nightstand. Then he remembers Kurt’s not interested and his nose tingles with the threat of incoming tears. No, he thinks and wipes his eyes. He is so tired of crying.

The following Monday he takes Kurt’s pictures out of his locker and says the words for the first time:

“I fucked a guy who isn’t Kurt.”

 

He considers going back to Dalton, briefly, and it’s so tempting. He wouldn’t have to worry about people thinking his hair is weird, or his bowties and sweater vests are dorky, he wouldn’t have to worry about whether or not he’s popular enough because no one is going to locker-check him or call him a fag to his face. He wouldn’t have to deal with people who know exactly what happened between him and Kurt.

He could even lie about it. He pictures it: he’ll smile ruefully and admit that long distance didn’t work out the way they’d hoped, and it wouldn’t even  _be_  a lie and his friends would pat his back and say  _that sucks buddy_  and no one would have to know he’d fucked a guy who wasn’t Kurt. They wouldn’t judge him or tell him he was being too dramatic and needed to get over it.

But his friends have mostly graduated and running away never did him any favors before. So he stays.

 

Somewhere in this part of the story we’ll allow Blaine a moment of self- reflection and petty anger. Probably in front of a mirror after a boxing session, because this is a summary and I don’t have to worry about it been too heavy handed. He’s eighteen, he thinks, he’s allowed to fuck up, he’s allowed to get drunk. He can fuck other guys without being judged by everyone and their mother. Blaine’s got an angry side; he probably uses the word fuck.

 

One afternoon he’s walking down the hallway when he sees a poster for the college fair the school hosted two weeks ago. He didn’t go. College applications are due soon and he’s barely checked out any schools other than NYADA because that was The Plan. He goes to see Ms. Pillsbury and she looks at him sadly but smiles nonetheless, and Blaine distracts himself by staring at whatever broach Ms. Pillsbury is wearing this time and hopes she doesn’t give him any pamphlets. She hands him a stack of brochures she magically pulls out of her file cabinet and seriously, has she been storing those in there hoping Blaine would come asking for them?

Blaine looks them over: Boston, Chicago, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Michigan. He looks at Ms. Pillsbury and she says:

“You don’t have to go to New York, Blaine.”

 

**ii.**

Ideally, they’d do this face to face but that’s not an option because Kurt’s not interested so his presidential campaign poster will have to do. Blaine sets the picture on his desk and stands in front of it. He takes a deep breath and tries his hardest not to wrap his arms around himself. It makes you look weak, Blaine. Or so his father says. (See what I did there?)

“Kurt,” he starts. He’s always liked saying Kurt’s name, for some reason. “When I hooked up with that guy, it wasn’t because I didn’t love you. If anything, it’s because I loved you too much and I didn’t know what to do. You were my whole life, but I wasn’t yours and—”

Oh stop. Even Blaine thinks this dialog is terrible.

“You know what?” he tries again. “You broke promises, too, Kurt. You took me for granted long before I slept with Eli. And while we’re at it, I do regret transferring out of Dalton. It was a mistake and it wasn’t fair of you to ask me to change my whole life…

  _(“I’m not sure our budding love can survive that.”)_

…to put me in that position when you wouldn’t do the same for me.”

_(“Take me for what I am ‘cause I’ll never change all my colors for you.”)_

“Did you ever consider what would happen to me when you left?”

But Kurt doesn’t respond, he just stares unblinkingly back at Blaine, an eyebrow perpetually raised. Blaine wonders when that expression stopped being sexy and became condescending.

 

**iii.**

Mr. Schuester’s out of original ideas and poses a bogus lesson about picking a song that reflects their current emotional state because projecting the right emotion is crucial in captivating audiences. Like they don’t already know that. Blaine could do it in his sleep.

He thinks about singing Katy Perry again, about falling from cloud nine and crashing from the high. But he’s trying to make changes in his life and he wants to try someone whose words he’s never used before, like perhaps a tongue-in-cheek rendition of Fiona Apple ( _I’ve been a bad, bad girl_ ) , or maybe Ellie Goulding ( _I’ve fallen from grace, took a blow to my face. I loved and I lost._ ) He YouTubes strong female singers and jumps from video to video until something grabs his attention:

“ _You don’t need my voice, girl, you have your own_.”

 

 

Somehow he stops thinking about Kurt every waking hour. Sectionals are coming up and he’s got rehearsals and he’s actually keeping up with the dozen clubs he joined. There are college applications to send out and audition tapes to finalize.

He doesn’t apply to NYADA. He  _does_  apply to Tisch, Julliard and AMDA. And Berklee in Boston. The San Francisco Conservatory of Music. Even Oberlin.

For the first time in a long time he feels reckless, unafraid, like he could do all the things he ever wanted to and nobody is going to look at him like,  _what are you doing Blaine_?

Then Kurt calls. The story dictates that Blaine will anxiously pick up the call and this will be the start of reconciliation.

Instead, Blaine chooses to let the phone ring. Kurt doesn’t leave a message and he doesn’t call back.

 

**iv.**

Burt Hummel shows up on Blaine’s doorstep right before Christmas. Blaine can’t figure out the purpose of his visit. He and Kurt broke up months ago and if Burt was going to beat him up, well, he should’ve done it long ago. But he’s not there to kick his ass. He wants to invite him to spend Christmas in New York, with him and Kurt. He misses you, kid, Burt says. You just need to talk it out.

Blaine thinks about that phone call he didn’t take and considers going. What if Burt is right? He allows himself to imagine the scenario:

There’d be talking, and warm milk and tears, lots of tears and maybe some hand holding. Kurt saying  _I forgive you_  and Blaine saying  _thank you_. A Christmas duet to continue their tradition. Something classic, like White Christmas, maybe. Would confessions of love be a stretch?  Maybe, but this is a fantasy. Let’s say they kiss under the mistletoe. Then what? Skype dates, texting and calling. Maybe a visit here and there. (Because that worked so well the first time around). What if Blaine doesn’t get into any NYC schools? What if he does but wants to go to another school anyway? Blaine thinks about old arguments and the way Kurt always brought up Rachel and Sebastian like they were things Blaine needed to be punished over, again and again. And he can see them two, five, ten years from now, fighting over money, or groceries and shoes left in the hallway and Kurt screaming about that time Blaine fucked another guy. Even if he says he forgives him, even if they move on, Kurt will never let him forget it. It won’t be enough that Blaine will never let  _himself_  forget. 

He says no thank you, Mr. Hummel and spends Christmas in Ohio instead.

 

**v.**

After winter break he proposes a Sadie Hawkins dance, even though Sadie Hawkins Day is in November. It’s been four years and he can’t let himself graduate high school without confronting this particular demon. There are other ways he can accomplish this, sure, but audiences like circular narratives.

He and Sam take the idea to Figgins and he hems and haws, says some inappropriate things and eventually gives in. The girls are super excited and no one knows the real reason Blaine wanted the school to host a Sadie Hawkins Dance. And that’s okay; this is Blaine’s hill to climb alone. And Blaine has a plan.

There’s a guy in his superhero club whose eyes always lingered too long on his thighs. And Blaine misses flirting, and midnight phone calls that last for hours. He misses kissing, touching and being touched. He asks the guy to go with him to the dance, point blank, no grand romantic gestures or serenades. The guy ducks his head and nods three times like he’s nervous but excited.

Blaine wears a tweed jacket and a red bow tie  his date wears a Tardis-blue jacket and Sam and Artie are the only people who get the reference. They dance, they drink punch, they take pictures and no one even looks at them weird. All in all, it’s a bit anti-climactic. It’s awesome.

Then they make out in the back of Blaine’s Volvo, and maybe even trade blowjobs.

They go on dates to the arcade and make out in the living room when Blaine’s parents aren’t home. On Valentine’s Day they stay in and watch horror movies in their underwear. It’s kind of perfect.

They don’t say things like I love you because this isn’t a love story.

 

**vi.**

Cooper’s in town the weekend of Mr. Schuester and Ms. Pillsbury’s wedding. Blaine skips it and plans an impromptu road trip to Chicago with Cooper instead. This is the comedic part of the story. 

 

**vii.**

He gets into five out of the seven schools he applied to. He’s never been faced with so many choices before. In the end, the decision is the easiest one he’ll ever make.

 

**viii.**

It’s not love at first sight. He thought California was supposed to be sunny and warm. But The Sunset isn’t sunny and you have to wear winter clothes to the beach. The fog is so thick and ever-present he learns within his first week in San Francisco that fixing his hair is useless. The transit system is intimidating and he still can’t find anyone to tell him exactly what is so scary about The Tenderloin. But after a month or so he settles into a rhythm. A guy from his composition class drags him to the Castro Theatre every Tuesday for double feature night. The lady at the TeaWay by his apartment knows him by name and greets him with a smile every time he comes in.

He joins a theater group and books a regular gig at a café in The Mission. He has  _friends_. People who don’t know he’s Cooper Anderson’s brother, or that he once dated Kurt Hummel. There’s no one depending on him to lead them to a national championship.

It hits him one night, coming back from bar hopping in the Castro, arm in arm with Tyler-from-the- theater-company at three in the morning: he actually lives here. This is his city and he is so in love with it he can’t believe he ever wanted to live anywhere else.

 

He thinks about Kurt sometimes. Wonders how he’s doing, if he’s seeing anyone. Sometimes he wonders what would’ve happened if he hadn’t pushed Kurt into going to New York and they’d gone off together like they’d planned. He knows it’s useless to let his mind wander to that place. What’s done is done and all he ever wanted was for Kurt to be happy and there’s no way Blaine would’ve been able to stand by and watch as Kurt slowly died inside. He thinks about calling him sometimes. It’s been almost a year since the last time they spoke, though. It’s no use digging up old wounds.

He’s in a good place. He can think about their relationship without being sad or angry now.

He wonders if he misses  _Kurt_ or if he simply misses being in love. In spite of everything he still believes in love above of all else. As in lose-yourself-completely kind of love. Except, next time he falls in love he’ll be smarter. He won’t be so afraid to say what he needs to. He’ll even allow himself to be a bit selfish, he thinks.

 

It’s February and it’s been raining every day since late December. Blaine’s in the middle of a song, halfway through his set at his regular gig when he sees him approach the stage. He’s wearing a fedora and a purple velvet blazer. Then there’s eye contact across the room, and a serenade. No Katy Perry, though. It’s one of his own songs this time.

His name is Justin and he describes his fashion choices as  _ironic_ , and he wears horn-rimmed glasses, for fucks’s sake. He probably listens to Bon Iver or something equally obnoxious but he makes Blaine laugh over drinks Blaine’s not supposed to have because he’s still only 19. Justin’s studying to be an architect and he doesn’t know a lot about musicals but he loves reality TV. It turns out they both live in The Sunset and love how close it is to Golden Gate Park, but hate how the fog never leaves. It’s hardly the fairy tale love story Blaine fantasized about when he was a lonely 13 year old boy just learning how the world would hate him for something he has no control over. Actually it’s better, because it’s real.

So when Justin leans in to kiss him at the end of the night, Blaine lets him. 


End file.
